Unworthy
by Catlover friendly-but-xplosive
Summary: Anders never deserved her love or support, yet she kept giving it to him. T for implied sex. Anders x F!Hawke.
1. Unworthy

Anders was my first romance partner- I fell head over heels for him, I will shamelessly admit. Fenris was my next victim- I promise I'm working on Fenris fics too ;) And this time round I'm working on Merrill.

Anyhow, I wrote this because the plot bunny refused to leave me. I have more Anders x F!Hawke in the works too, and will post them as new chapters :)

Disclaimer: As much as I'd like to, I cannot claim to be the genius that came up with Dragon Age, and will give all the credit to Bioware's amazing team.

**Unworthy **

"You deserve better than an apostate on the run," Anders said softly. The determined sparkle in her eyes warmed his heart- _she was willing to fight for him, despite his unworthiness_- and he heard her smile in her reply.

"I'll be the judge of that, thank you very much," Leora Hawke said firmly.

XX

The next three years were the sweetest hell he had ever burned in.

Every night he longed for her, lay in bed staring at the roof of his Darktown clinic, the ground of Lowtown where she lived, and wasn't whether he slept at all- his fantasies of her might well have slipped into dreams.

But he knew that he was unworthy of her, despite what she said, despite the sparkle he saw in her eyes when she looked at him that wasn't there when she looked at the others- _at Fenris, who he found himself getting jealous of_-, and tried not to obsess over her, with little success.

After all, she was willing to fight for him.

Justice didn't approve, kept reminding him of his duty to destroy the Chantry and expose the Circle for what it really was, but that was a distant future, and Leora Hawke was a solid, physical reality.

So, he didn't really try too hard to fight the fantasies.

XX

She kept pursuing him. He resisted at first, resisted every step of the way, but his desire eventually won out over his common sense.

"You saw what I almost did to that girl-" he began, hoping to remind her that he was a monster and that she would make the right decision here- _because he sure as hell couldn't do the right thing_- "But I'm just a man, and I can't keep resisting!" he burst out in frustration.

"I don't want you to resist," she said. She opened her mouth to continue but he didn't hear what she said next. He'd flown forward, unable to control himself, and thrown his arms around her, kissing her fiercely. She responded with passion, and he found himself wondering dazedly why he'd ever resisted this. He finally broke apart only because he needed to breathe.

"If your door is open tonight I'll be there," he said. "If not, I'll finally know that you've taken my warnings seriously."

"Not a chance," she muttered as she grinned from ear to ear. It occurred to him that he was something of a conquest, after his three years of resistance, and found that the thought didn't bother him in the slightest.

XX

He eagerly headed along Hightown streets as he went to the Hawke Manor. Justice tried everything to stop him, but he tuned the spirit out. He had burned for this for three years and would not be denied now.

He slipped inside and found her in her room, leaning casually against the bed and watching the door, waiting for him. The sight of her took his breath away. She was so beautiful.

"I'd have gone looking for you if you'd taken any longer," she said, unable to help the silly grin that spread across her face.

"This is stupid," he said, trying one last time to convince her- and himself.

"Of course it isn't," she said, crossing the room to face him. "I don't care about Justice, about the fact that you're an apostate, about anything. I want you, Anders."

Seeing her so close he lost control. He wrapped his arms around her neck and pressed his lips to hers eagerly. He'd waited three years and would not wait another second. She took his hand after they separated, panting and redfaced, and led him to the bed. He pushed her down on the covers and pressed his lips again to hers, feeling her wrap her arms around his back and felt Justice give up.

XX

He stared into her eyes as they cuddled, wrapped so closely around each other so it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began.

"That was fantastic," he breathed.

In reply she leaned forward and kissed him.

He responded passionately.

She reached up and traced his jawline with a finger, and planted a kiss on his Adam's apple. He growled in pleasure.

"Keep that up and I might just do this again," he threatened, kissing her neck and trailing down to her chest. She made a small noise of pleasure and wrapped her fingers through his hair, tugging it rather pleasantly as he kept kissing her.

XX

"I'd best be getting back to the clinic," he said reluctantly the next morning as they got dressed. She looked up at him, disappointed.

"Why?"

"Because the people need my help. I need to be there. I live there." He stopped short of saying it was home.

"You live there, yes. But it's not home." There was a long silence. "Move in, Anders," she said. "Live with me." He nearly dropped his shirt.

"You're serious?"

"Deadly," she replied. "What say you?"

"What about Meredith?" he asked, floundering for a moment, trying to find his footing in this new possibility.

"What about her?" she asked as he slowly pulled his shirt over his head. "You need a better place to live than your clinic. No offence, but it's a bit… run down." He chucked ruefully.

"Darktown," he said by way of explanation.

"Hightown," she offered.

He thought seriously for a moment.

"You're sure about this?"

"Positive."

"In that case…" he paused dramatically as she cocked an eyebrow at him. "Sure. Why not?"

"I'll want a little more enthusiasm than that!" she laughed, hitting him softly on the shoulder. He raised his arms in mock surrender.

"I would love to live with you," he said seriously. She giggled a little nervously.

"I'm glad you said that. I'd have felt like a fool if you said no."

"How could I?" he asked, taking her hand gently and kissing her.

XX

She sat on the bed, crying. He knew why- he found it hard to shake the image of Leandra all stitched together too. He had no doubts that she'd have many nightmares in the next weeks. He sat beside her and gripped her hand gently.

"I am so sorry about your mother," he said seriously. She turned to him and buried her face in his shoulder, throwing her arms around him.

"I failed her," she said, voice muffled by his shirt. "I should have been faster."

"You couldn't have been any faster," he told her. "There was nothing you could have done."

She didn't reply as he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close.

XX

If his last three years had been the sweetest hell, then this surely must be heaven.

Waking up every morning beside her made each new morning the best day of his life. He'd waited so long, and it was worth every second of agony.

He hadn't forgotten his task, and still did his research, he still helped the sick, but every night returned to Hightown, to the manor- returned _home_.

Home. This place was his home now.

He still found it a little hard to take in at times. He'd grown so used to Darktown's squalor that the wealth of Hightown was daunting.

Guilt occasionally plagued him, usually prompted by Justice, at leading her on, knowing that he would have to leave her, but without a plan, he couldn't sacrifice the best thing that had ever happened to him over an abstract idea.

XX

He almost wished he'd never found a way.

Because this meant his honeymoon was over. He would have to work now, to leave her, to lie to her. He needed to ask her for her help to finish his plan, but couldn't ask for it based on the fact that he was going to destroy the Chantry as she'd be honour bound to turn him in- _or worse, help him_- he needed to find another excuse.

What would she help him with?

Anything.

Even to destroy the Chantry.

He wrenched his mind from those dangerous thoughts and attempted to think of something else.

XX

"I've been doing research," he said, staring at the ground, unable to meet her eyes. "And I think I've found a way to get rid of Justice."

It was the best lie he'd been able to think of.

"Oh yes?" she asked, cocking her head interestedly. "What does it entail?"

"Just a simple potion," he assured her, hating himself more with each word he spoke. "But I need your help to get a couple of ingredients."

"Just a potion?" she asked. "That's all?"

"That's all." He couldn't fake a smile anymore. He sighed. "Please."

"Of course," she said, touching his arm. "Anything for you."

As she left the clinic, he buried his face in his hands.

XX

"Tell me one thing Anders," she said softly, hand on his cheek. Her eyes were soft and steady, and he knew what was behind them. Sadness, pride and understanding. She understood duty. Maker he loved her. He just wanted to kiss her, here and now, but held back. He could not be with her anymore- _this was more important than even her_- and did not want to make this too hard for her. She had already given him far more than he deserved.

"When this is over, and Justice is gone-" she paused here and he could see the uncertainty in those beautiful brown eyes. It tore at him, that he had caused her pain. "Will you be the same?"

The question was delivered in a way that told him she knew he would be different. He hated himself in that moment, hated having to lie to her.

"I don't know," he said, took her hand away from his face and gazed longingly at her for just a moment, dropping it reluctantly before tearing his eyes away and walking away from her. He heard her breathing, knew that she had reached the edge of tears he saw when she thought of her mother or Carver, and hated himself for bringing her there. As he left the room through a supreme effort of will, he whispered, "Forgive me, love."

She had heard him. He knew from the way she took a half step towards his turned back. He could hear her drag her foot back across the floor and knew that he could not afford to turn around now, no matter how badly he wanted to. He would never leave if he did.

It was the hardest thing he had ever done, but he closed the door behind him. Just before it shut, he heard her sink to the bed and a muffled sob escape her.

XX

"This was your plan all along?" she asked, staring up at the red lights in the sky, oddly beautiful, then turned to him, angrily.

"This is why you had me distract the Grand Cleric?"

He looked down, unable to meet her eyes. He knew this was going to happen, but even so, wasn't prepared for the fury radiating from her every pore.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "If I'd told you… you'd have felt honour bound to stop me."

"Damn straight," she hissed, lips pressed into a white line. He bit his lip and gripped his hands tightly together to stop himself from trembling.

"The right of annulment," he vaguely heard Meredith say from his seat on a box he'd found. Fighting. Footsteps.

She was standing behind him.

"You can't say anything to me I've not said to myself," he told her without looking up. Her response was not what he'd expected.

"Come with me," she said softly. "Help me fight for the mages. Set things right."

Astonishment made him look up.

"You're serious?" he asked, in the exact same tone he'd used when she'd offered him a place in her home three years ago.

"Deadly," she said, also in the same tone.

"I'm sorry I didn't trust you," he said. "I wanted to tell you so badly, but what if you'd stopped me- or, worse, tried to help?"

"Then we would have been in this together. We already are, Anders."

"You had nothing to do with it!"

"I've protected you for three years, had you under my roof, and, to hear Varric talk, had wild sex with you every night. Do you think anyone will believe I didn't know?" That gave him pause. He hadn't considered that. His silence was more eloquent than any words.

"We're in this together, Anders. And I'd have it no other way."

He heard the familiar mulish tones she used when arguing with him about the danger of having him as a lover, and knew she'd never back down. He couldn't help a smile spreading across his lips as he registered the fact that she was still here for him, still supporting him, and, impossible as it was to believe, _she still wanted him_.

His smile died, though, when he saw how much damage had been done, and he swallowed nervously.

"I didn't want it to be this bad," he said. She looked at him and touched his hand softly.

_I know_ her eyes told him.

XX

He'd been thinking about his options. He saw her talking to her other companions, and knew that she'd speak to him too. He tried to prepare his words but when she did finally come over to him he was tongue tied.

"I can't stay," he blurted out finally after a long moment of just staring at her. "I need to leave Kirkwall. I'll be a fugitive. No one will help me."

"I know," she said, gazing at him.

"And I know I've no right to ask this- but I didn't even expect you to spare my life, and… and I have to ask. I want you to come with me. I'd rather be on the run with you than alone."

He waited with baited breath and tried to tell himself that he'd understand if she refused. She didn't reply right away.

"Well, I suppose," she said slowly. "We'll be fugitives together."

He blinked twice.

"Wait, what?" he exclaimed. "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

She leaned forward and kissed him softly and he felt the fire in his heart reignite.

"We will make a world where our children can be mages and live free," he vowed. He knew that any children they did have by some miracle would be mages- he was a mage, and she had a father and sister who were mages.

"We will," she said. "But first, we have to deal with Meredith."

"Of course," he said, wrenching his mind back to the present. "Thank you," he added as she started to walk off.

"It's nothing," she said sincerely. "Be ready. Keep safe, Anders. Survive."

XX

He'd fought by her side in several battles. He'd even watched her fight the Arishok alone. He remembered the nail-biting duel, where he'd had to grip his clothes and bit his lip, hard, to stop himself darting in to help her. But this was almost worse than even that day, a day he still had nightmares about sometimes.

He knew the reputation of Knight-Commander Meredith, and the way both Leora and Varrick stared at the sword which was made from pure lyrium made him scared.

At least he was by her side this time.

She was dodging fluidly as the massive statue tried to hit her, and failed. Its sheer size and ungainly movements were its undoing. Admittedly, however, her two daggers weren't doing all that much against stone. But, distracted as he was, he failed to notice the statue that was approaching him until it was too late.

It smashed him in the small of the back and he dropped his staff, doubling over in agony. His cry of pain must have reached her ears- for the next moment the statue was in itty bitty pieces and she was crouching protectively over him.

"Meredith," he gasped.

"Fenris is making short work of her," she replied.

"Help him," he said. "You are the Champion of Kirkwall. Do your duty."

She laughed at his unintentional parody of Meredith's words.

"I am doing my duty. I'm protecting you."

"But Meredith…"

At that moment a roar of what felt like magic- _but couldn't be, Meredith was a Templar_- cut his words off and everyone in the square turned to watch as Meredith screamed at the heavens, then her sword broke apart in her hand and red light streamed out of her whole body. It became far too bright and he turned away, blinking several times to be rid of the persistent aftershadow her action had left.

Leora was tugging on his hand.

"Anders, look," she breathed, sounding astonished. He turned and did a double take.

Where Meredith had been was a statue, kneeling as if plunging a sword into the ground, glaring up at the world.

"Maker," he breathed, as booted footsteps ran into the square and they were surrounded by Templars.

He found himself looking around nervously. What if they attacked them for the loss of the Knight-Commander? Leora locked gazes with Cullen- who was the most senior Templar now he came to think about it- for a very long time.

Then she turned her back on the Templars and walked out of the Gallows.

He followed her and the others slowly followed. No one moved behind them.

XX

They left the city that night, all of them in one big group. First they headed out to the Wounded Coast, then on, past the mountains, where no one would find them.

Aveline and her husband Donnic left them first, to find a place in which to settle down. Then Fenris struck out alone- why, Anders wasn't sure, but then again, he was never sure about any of the elf's motivations. Merril left soon after, either to kill herself in her guilt over the Keeper or to find a way to get over it, he wasn't exactly clear.

Varrick only left them reluctantly. His devotion to Leora- and possibly the fantastic stories her exploits gave him- made him both a staunch protector and good friend, and he left only because he had no other choice. Leora told him before he left to make their adventures sound good and the wicked grin on the dwarf's face made Anders groan.

Bethany left them last, grinning smugly and saying that they needed 'time alone'. To her credit, Leora didn't blush too hard- he certainly went red as a cherry- and as she watched her sister, the last of her companions, leave, she looked sad.

But she stayed with him, as she had said she would. They were fugitives together, and he found, to his intense surprise, that people respected her so much that they weren't bothered as much as he'd have expected.

Other mage circles rebelled, to his delight, and soon the Templars had no mages left. They were shocked to find that the Champion became the rallying point of all rebellion in the Thedas, the symbol of freedom from Templar oppression.

"Me? Seriously?" she asked on several occasions.

But mage freedom wasn't the best thing that happened. Neither was the fact that Justice had been quiet lately. Or that they weren't hounded constantly by Templars.

It was the fact that she was pregnant.

When she'd told him he'd nearly fallen over. He'd not thought it possible to sire children with the Taint.

He figured she must have been pregnant during the fight with Meredith- which went a ways towards explaining why she stayed at his side instead of fight- and she also said that Bethany had known, which explained the girl's smug smile.

"Baby will be a mage," she said. They'd taken to calling the child 'Baby' until they knew the sex.

"A free mage," he said delightedly. "He or she won't have to hide." The warm smile she wore as she caressed her belly was so like her mother's that he did a double take.

"I wish Mother was here," she said softly. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

"She's watching, I'm sure," he said. "From the Maker's side."

She smiled.

And, he reflected, this was the true triumph of mage freedom. Not taking down the Chantry or the Circle, but the fact that his son or daughter would be born into a world where they would be free to use their powers.

And it was a world he had created.


	2. Baiting the Dragon

**Baiting the Dragon**

Travelling with a pregnant woman was… interesting, to stay the least.

Their pace slowed once they were out of immediate danger and they camped much earlier, rather than pulling all-nighters or only settling when it was too dangerous to go on.

Anders found himself thinking that he was living on the edge of one of the daggers Hawke so studiously sharpened and polished each night, unsure whether cracking a joke would result in a merry laugh or a death glare.

Some days she was in high spirits, singing at the top of her lungs as she marched far ahead of him. Others he had to push her to keep moving, which usually resulted in her snapping at him to 'stop telling me what to do', and she marched far ahead in order to get away from him.

Well, a result is a result, he thought optimistically on these occasions.

Today was one of her moody days.

He'd taken to doing things for her in order to minimise the strain on her, packing the camp up and all that, and on her good days she appreciated it. But on her moody days…

"Stop fussing, Anders," she snapped. "I'm pregnant, not helpless."

"Just rest, love," he said. "I'll do it."

"I've taken care of myself for years," she snarled. "Don't coddle me."

He'd seen this in his clinic before, fathers-to-be treading around their pregnant women as if they were baiting a dragon, but never fully understood it before he became one of them. Which didn't mean he didn't fear the pregnant women any less. Of all his patients, the most fearsome were the expectant mothers.

"I'm not coddling you," he said in a placatory tone, holding his hands up in surrender. "I know you're capable of anything you put your mind to. I'm just trying to make this time easier for you. You've done many things, but being pregnant is not one of them."

He'd watched her talk people down from a murderous rage- talk him down from Justice- by being diplomatic, and tried to emulate her sense of diplomacy, but failed miserably. She was just about spitting fire at him.

"Is that the best you can do, Anders? You really want to help- get me some blighted bacon!" She stormed ahead and he sighed wearily. Nine months of this? He thought in dismay.

Other days she was almost normal- insofar as the term 'normal' could be applied to Leora Hawke, that is.

It was obvious she hungered for adventure- more than dispatching the occasional bandits that is. Soon even the most desperate bandits learned to avoid the rogue and mage, so she was deprived of even that small pleasure.

Her last seven years had been jam packed in Kirkwall, and before that, hiding her sister from the Templars was no easy job, and she had constantly moved around. She was used to action, and she was getting bored. The travelling life was familiar to her. But she had always hated it.

Anders couldn't even imagine her settling down. He'd had his fair share of adventures with her, and had grown used to constantly being in danger, but rather preferred to stay in one place and help the poor who came in droves to his doorstep, unable to pay healers.

But she would be champing at the bit to get out of a small but respectable cottage somewhere far away from any Templars and find adventure.

Well, he'd known his life would never be boring with her.

XX

She had never cared about reputation. But he was more aware of social niceties- he just tended to ignore them. Not this time, however.

"Leora," he said one day she was in a good mood, "I want to marry you."

She stared at him.

"I don't need some cleric to proclaim us together until death do us part," she said.

"Nor do I," he hurried to say, lest she turn into a dragon again. "But you don't want our child to be a bastard, do you?"

She rubbed her belly- she was just starting to show- gently and remained silent for a long moment.

"No," she said eventually. "I wouldn't put that on a child."

He breathed a sigh of relief.

The next days on the road she spent raging at him, and he prayed that she'd not be like this when they arrived at the next town. No cleric would marry them if she was swearing like a sailor at the man she was supposed to be in love with.

But the idea of married life seemed to appeal to her after she realised it was something to flaunt in the Templars' collective faces.

"The thought of telling them that they'll have to get through to me to get to my husband has something of a romantic appeal," she said with a wicked grin. "And if they want my help they'll have to keep you alive. That'll rub them up the wrong way."

"You're evil, you know that?" Anders replied with a laugh.

"You love it," she said roguishly.

"Too right I do." He kissed her and she kissed him back.

XX

The priest at the next village- a little place called Maraway- was honoured to marry the Champion. It was supposed to be a small ceremony, just the two of them and the priest, but word spread, as it does in small villages, and the whole of the village turned out to watch the Champion get married.

Afterwards, when the couple- now married couple- wanted nothing more than a room to themselves, they had to go through countless strangers congratulating them.

After they finally got away, Leora sat on the bed and stared at her husband.

"That meant more to me than I thought it would," she confessed. "I thought it was just to keep Baby from being a bastard, but partway through the ceremony it hit me that, you're, well, my husband."

He had remained silent, sensing she had more to say.

"I'm not sure I'll be a good wife," she admitted.

"You are a fantastic lover, and I have absolutely no doubt you'll bring the zeal you do everything with into our marriage as well."

Marriage. The word sent chills up his spine. He'd not dared to hope to ever find a woman to accept him, let alone marry him, what with Justice and all, and he'd hardly been able to believe his good fortune when she refused to give up on him.

And now she was his wife.

He kissed her softly.

"I'm positive you will be a fantastic wife."

XX

They stayed in Maraway itself for three months before finding a cottage on the outskirts of the village- far enough away for privacy and to flee if the Templars came looking for them, but not too far that they wouldn't be able to defend the village in the instance of an attack- and bought it. Leora had said she didn't want to travel anymore, as heavily pregnant as she was, and wanted somewhere quiet to bring the child up, somewhere they could play with other children. Growing up with just Bethany and Carver, she'd missed the company of children other than her siblings.

"You're going to be desperate for adventure," Anders said.

"I know. But for the child's sake, I'll do it. I didn't get a chance to settle because of Bethany. But my child won't have to hide and I won't deprive them of friends."

"You're going to be a wonderful mother," he said warmly, kissing her.

XX

When it came time to deliver, the village midwife simply assumed her services were required- but Leora wanted Anders to deliver their baby. The midwife frowned suspiciously.

"He's a healer," Leora assured her. This didn't stop her glaring at Anders as if he was taking her job and would botch it up.

"He's delivered babies before."

"Hmph."

"You can do it," Anders surrendered quickly. He'd encountered midwives before and feared them more than he did pregnant women.

"You'll have to stay in the village," the midwife said to Leora, who meekly accepted her leadership on this matter.

"Yes'm," she replied meekly.

When it came down to it, the doctor was in charge on medial issues. That was something she'd learned from Anders. After her duel with the Arishok, he had confined her to bed for a week, and when she defied him and he found her wandering the house, he had struck the fear of the Maker into her.

It was a day she still shuddered to remember.

Ever since then, she'd treated doctors with the utmost respect, and midwives with even more. She'd met some midwives who scared her more than the High Dragon she'd killed.

So she spent the last month of her pregnancy in Maraway, flooded by well-wishers until she'd begged the midwife to make them stop coming. The only person she wanted with her right now was Anders.

It was another fortnight until she finally gave birth.

It was an excruciating process. She clutched Anders' hand and refused to let go as the midwife kept telling her to push. Hours passed before finally a cry rent the air and a child started screaming.

"It's a boy," the midwife said, examining the child to be sure he was alright.

But Leora didn't relax, and the midwife's eyes widened in surprise. Anders tensed; terrified that something had gone wrong.

"You're carrying twins!" the midwife exclaimed instead.

This should have been good news, but since it meant several more hours of agony, Leora wasn't too excited. It also meant several more hours of having his hand crushed, so neither was Anders.

But once it was over, and the two tiny linin wrapped bundles were placed on Leora's chest and started suckling contentedly, she found it was all worth it.

Staring in wonder at the twins, their tiny faces, their tiny grasping fingers, she felt love so complete overwhelm her that she would have gone through the whole process all over again for them.

Anders picked the boy up later and gazed at the face of his son. A small hand reached out from the blanket and curled round his finger as the boy slept contentedly, now he was no longer hungry.

"What shall we call them?" he breathed.

"Carver," Leora said, looking at the boy in her husband's arms. "And Leandra."

"Perfect," Anders whispered. "My son, Carver. My daughter, Leandra."

XX

The couple remained in town for two more months, learning to care for the babies. Leora had experience with toddlers, having cared for Bethany and Carver as a child when their parents were busy, but babies were beyond her experience.

Carver and Leandra were officially christened three weeks later.

Again, the whole village turned out to what was intended to be a private affair. The two were used to scrutiny- Leora was, after all, the Champion and had never exactly lain low in Kirkwall- but this was become ridiculous.

"Next time we have a private event, we invite the priest out to our place," Leora muttered to her husband as she carried little Leandra to the front of the Chantry.

"The village would just follow," Anders replied wearily, cradling Carver protectively.

"True," she sighed. "Wonder how long it takes people to realise that I gave birth six months after marriage."

"They probably already do. They're just too scared to gossip about you," he said.

"Not bloody likely," she laughed. "This is a small village. No one is immune to gossip here. The most important get it the worst."

"Then we wait for the busybodies to catch up."

They were getting used to all their private events become public ones in Maraway, their private business considered public property. Each and every villager felt it was their Maker-given right to hold the twins and coo over them, until Leora firmly stepped in when the babies started getting irritated and said they had to go home- now. No, Harriet couldn't have one last hold. Yes, they do need sleep, so if you'll excuse us…

"We're the ones who'll have to deal with the crying later," she added under her breath.

They left with countless gifts of booties, bottles, and everything else imaginable, a pile Anders was struggling under while Leora carefully adjusted the twins on her hips, carrying them in a style similar to the way she carried her twin daggers. Her daggers were no longer in her sleeves, just in case they slipped out and she accidently injured one of her children. They were now wrapped around her ankles in a less accessible but much safer style.

She refused to go unarmed.

XX

As time passed, the Champion became less of a focus of village life, and seemed to have come down several notches in village opinion. Rather than telling tales of her deeds in Kirkwall, the women spoke of her terrible cooking, of the fact she didn't leave the fighting to her husband, and that she'd given birth six months after being married- the scandal!

"It seems that because I'm married now, I'm supposed to put my knives down and be a good housewife," she said one day when they passed through the market, each holding a child, and Anders had to smother a laugh.

"You're a fantastic wife, sweetheart, and I love you dearly- but a housewife you are not."

"I know that!" she exclaimed. "I never claimed I was one! No, I excel in most unladylike places."

"Indeed you do," he said with a grin, looking significantly at their children. She blushed.

The fact that she had a voracious sexual appetite was added to village gossip after that.

The villagers of Maraway were fond of their resident celebrity. They disapproved of Anders- it was rather hard to hide the fact that he had killed the Grand Cleric, after all- but that too fell into the gossip of the village, and quite a number of amusing tales sprang about as to how and why he did it.

But mostly they disapproved of him because he had 'stolen' his wife's virtue before marriage and only married her because she was pregnant.

She found these rumours hysterical.

"Varric would be pleased," Leora laughed. "Or disappointed. He's not the only one telling stories."

Life in Maraway was fairly quiet, and both Leora and Anders found that they were too exhausted taking care of babies to crave adventure.

"How did Mother and Father do it?" Leora asked after she dragged Carver out of the kitchen for the hundredth time after he learned to walk. The boy got into everything. Anders could only shrug helplessly.

"It's the best thing I've ever done," he said as he tried to brush Leandra's hair. He knew he wasn't the best at it, but he tried. Leora was no better. Her version of a hairstyle was pulling it off her face so it didn't get in the way during combat. "Raising children."

"Me too," Leora said softly, proudly.

"I'd not trade this life for the world."


	3. Champion's Children

**Champion's Children**

Leandra had grown up in a shack on the outskirts of a small village called Maraway, learning to use her power from the time she could walk, all the while bickering with her twin brother, under the watchful eyes of their loving but wary- Mother had grown up with twins, and knew well what could happen with them- mother and father.

She stared at the wall, muttering as she tried to learn a tricky new spell, while Mother watched from the doorway behind her, leaning against the doorframe.

"I remember Bethany doing that," she commented, and Father wrapped his arms around Mother as she continued speaking.

"She'd sit still for hours while Carver and I tried to pull her away to play. We gave up eventually and went to play alone, but inevitably we ended up arguing and Bethany or Mother would have to come out to separate us."

He laughed softly.

"Your childhood was so much more interesting than mine. I spent mine in the Tower, dreaming of freedom. Usually in isolation after I failed to achieve it, come think."

"You found it eventually." Leandra heard them kissing and gagged.

"Apparently she needs to be told that she wouldn't be here if we hadn't kissed," her mother said, sounding amused, fully aware that her daughter was listening to every word under the pretence of studying. The girl blushed.

"We did a few other things too," her father said with a roguish laugh.

"She doesn't need to know about that just yet," her mother retorted dryly. "Though the village gossips have probably taken time to inform her," she added. Leandra heard him sweep the small woman off her feet and her mother giggle.

"She'll find out in her own time. But you, my dear," he growled possessively into her mother's ear, "You are no innocent like her."

"Something I seem to recall you saw to," her mother replied, voice high and breathless. Her father laughed again and she heard his retreating footsteps and the door shut behind them.

"They're at it again, are they?" her brother Carver sighed, poking his head through the door.

"Yup," she replied.

They were eight years old, learning to control their magic, and life was good.

XX

They had heard, of course, about Aunt Bethany. Mother spoke of her a lot. Childhood stories mostly, occasionally regret about the fact she'd let the Circle take her, but they'd never met her, or any of the others Mother and Father talked about- Aveline, Varric, Fenris and Merrill.

Hiding from the Templars as they were, though the children didn't properly understand why, Mother and Father had always being wary around guests, despite the inordinate amount they had.

Father ran a clinic, healing people for free, and word got around about the apostate in the mountains who helped everyone.

"You keep saying you don't want to be found. Why do all the people keep coming to see Father?" Leandra asked one day while Mother was brushing her hair. She'd played hide and seek with the village children enough to know that one did not announce their hiding place if they wanted to stay hidden.

"Your father never was one to hide," Mother replied. "Even in Kirkwall, with the Templars hounding him all the time. If he were in the Gallows about to be hung and someone asked for his help he'd postpone his own execution to help them." Her tone was fond.

The girl had looked horrified at the thought of her father being hung, and Mother seemed to realise she'd made a mistake.

"Sorry, darling. I shouldn't have said that," she'd said.

So when someone knocked on the door, Carver was wary, pushing Leandra behind him.

Their parents arrived at the same moment, Mother with her daggers in her hands and Father with his staff in his.

"Take your sister out back, Carver," Father said quietly and the boy nodded as he protectively ushered Leandra to the door, holding his staff.

"Who is it?" Mother called.

"Let me in already, sis."

The wariness on Mother's face abruptly vanished to be replaced with extreme joy.

"Bethany!" she cried out as she sheathed her daggers and opened the door. Carver caught a glimpse of a black haired woman before Mother hugged her fiercely and blocked her from view.

"Leora," Aunt Bethany said, much quieter but with no less enthusiasm. "It's good to see you again. Anders, I trust you're well?"

"I am," Father replied and offered his hand. Aunt Bethany took it and shook it firmly.

"And who is this?"

Carver had stopped moving, seeing how his parents relaxed on seeing their visitor, but was still shielding his sister from view.

"This is my son, Carver," Mother introduced him. "Behind him is Leandra, his twin sister."

Aunt Bethany turned away hurriedly, and Carver was sure he'd seen tears in her eyes.

"I thought I told you to call a girl Bethany," she said, voice choked up.

"I thought I told you to get lost," Mother said, smiling and giving her the chance to dry her eyes.

"You did," Aunt Bethany acknowledged a moment later, turning around.

"You're a mage too," Leandra said, peering around her brother and noting the staff on her aunt's back.

"Duh," Carver said. "Mother told us that."

"Shut up," the girl said, pouting.

"Only when you stop being stupid," Carver said cheerfully.

"I'm not stupid!"

"They remind me of you and Carver. It was the two of you who ought to have been twins," Aunt Bethany laughed, watching.

The two children stopped bickering and looked up, Carver responding to the sound of his name.

"Not you, your namesake," Aunt Bethany said to him.

"They go at it all the time too," Father said dryly. "Was she really that bad as a child?"

"Worse than she is now," Bethany assured him. He did a double take in mock horror.

"No!"

"Oh, yes," Mother said with a roguish grin. "Terrible, I was. Fought over everything."

"So no different to now then," Father said. Mother hit him and he laughed.

They might argue a lot- Carver was sure that their parents bickered worse than they did- but both children knew that in the event of trouble they stood firm together.

"I pursued you for three years, Anders," Mother had once said to Father after an argument while the twins eavesdropped past their bedtime. "I stood with you through the destruction of the Chantry, and being on the run. I won't let a small thing like this separate us."

"I don't deserve you," he had said.

"You keep saying that," she had replied, sounding amused, and Carver knew she was quirking a single eyebrow. It was her habit. He heard them kissing and gagged.

"And you need to go to bed," she'd added, raising her voice and addressing their children directly. There was a squeak and a scurry of small feet as Leandra ran back to their room, Carver not far behind her.

"Such a good idea," their father had said, scooping his wife in his arms and kissing her passionately. Not long later the twins heard Father walking past their door.

Now Mother spoke up.

"Yes, I'm the only one here who isn't," she said, smiling. "Magic is more trouble than its worth." She grinned at her husband, who opened his mouth to retort.

"Heard from Aveline lately?" Aunt Bethany asked; changing the subject before the pair of them could start bickering too. She was a twin, and knew what a pair who regularly bickered looked like.

"No," Father said. "Not for a few years. Haven't heard any rumours either, which must mean that they've kept out of sight." The children stayed quiet, eager to listen in and aware they'd probably be sent away if caught.

"I heard a rumour that an elf is hunting slavers," Aunt Bethany said. The three of them grinned. "Brutally. It's said that he stabs them right through the chest." Mother was shaking with suppressed laughter while Father just shook his head.

Leandra looked at Carver, confused. He shook his head, looking just as puzzled.

"Reckon Merril threw herself on her own blade?" Mother asked. "Hypothetically speaking, of course."

"More like fell prey to the demons she summoned," Bethany snorted. The twins gasped. Demons were forbidden! This seemed to bring them back to the attention of the adults.

"This conversation can wait until these two are in bed," Mother said. "And they won't hear us- or eavesdrop," she added.

The pair groaned.

"When did you turn responsible, hmm?" Aunt Bethany asked, grinning.

"I became a parent," Mother retorted. "I see you aren't carting around kids."

"I'm much too busy for that!" the smaller woman replied. "Besides, you're doing the child rearing for both of us. Double the trouble."

"Should have known I was carrying twins," Mother sighed. "When I started getting too big to fight."

"I hear that happens in normal pregnancy too, sis," Aunt Bethany said snidely.

"Speaking from experience?" Mother asked sweetly.

"Girls," Father said warningly.

Both sisters hit him.

"Ow," he complained. "That was supposed to stop hurting."

"Never," Mother promised, with a warm smile.

The twins ran in and tugged at Aunt Bethany's arms, getting bored of the adult talk.

"Aunt Bethany! Come on, I want to show you my room!" Carver exclaimed.

"Mine first!" Leandra insisted. "Maybe I'll show her the hole in the bedhead where you nail my braid while I sleep."

Aunt Bethany and Mother burst out laughing in perfect unison as Bethany was dragged away by the twins.

XX

Aunt Bethany stayed a week before leaving. She was charmed by their little family and promised to visit again, but, alas, she had to leave, she explained to the children's doleful faces.

Mother embraced her sister tightly before she left.

"Stay safe, sister," she said.

"You too," Aunt Bethany said with a warm smile. "Take good care of the little tykes."

"We've managed for eight years now. I'm sure we'll be fine," Mother assured her.

"It's been good to see you again," Father said seriously. "Stay free." Aunt Bethany grinned.

"The Templars have been too busy trying to contain open war to bother hunting lil old me," she laughed. "I never did congratulate you, Anders. Our mass exodus was a bit rushed for that."

Father's smile was strained.

"Oh, and sis? I heard a rumour that you returned to Ferelden with the rogue Grey Warden to steal the throne from under King Alastair," their aunt added, winking. "That you reckon it'll look good in your living room."

"Varric," Mother and father said at the same time, both trying- and failing- not to laugh.

"He also said that he was 'making good' on his promise. Said you'd know what he meant."

Father groaned. Mother laughed.

"Never expected any less of him," she said cheerfully.

"In any case," Aunt Bethany said, looking up at the sun, "I really do need to get going. It's been nice seeing you."

"You too, sister," Mother said, watching her leave until she was out of sight.

XX

Life continued as normal, except that the children now asked for Aunt Bethany.

"I don't know where she is," Mother explained patiently for the hundredth time while cooking dinner one night. Her cooking had improved no end- Anders stopped needing to treat himself for food poisoning now. "She'll visit when she can but we can't send her a letter asking her to come back."

The twins groaned.

"Why not?" Leandra whined.

"Honey, if a letter can find her, so can the Templars," Mother said. "I won't take that chance."

"What if the Templars do find her? What's the worst that could happen?" Leandra asked, impatiently.

Mother went pale but didn't reply. Father appeared in the doorway, took one look at his wife and went to her side. Leandra knew somehow that she had caused Mother pain.

"Anders… did you hear…"

"Yes," he said. "Don't worry, sweetheart. They won't find her, or us."

"If they find you…" Carver pulled his sister out of the kitchen quietly but they still heard what she said next. "They'll kill you! The thought of you hanging in the Gallows…" she tried to suppress a sob with little success.

"I'd drown us in blood before I let that happen," their father promised. Their mother laughed shakily.

"I suppose we've already done the flowers."

XX

That night they received a strong talking to about Templars.

"Your magic is a gift," Father said, "But the Templars see it as a curse and would lock you away for it."

"Away from you and Mother?" Leandra asked, horrified.

"And from each other," Father said gravely.

"You're a mage," Carver said. "Would they lock you away too?" After a moment's hesitation, he nodded. Better to let them think that he'd just be locked away.

"You wouldn't see me again," he said, carefully.

"I don't want that to happen!" Leandra exclaimed, bursting into tears. "I'd miss you!"

"I'd miss you too, baby," he said, hugging his daughter tightly.

"What would happen to Mother if they found us?" Carver asked quietly. "She's no mage."

"I don't know, Carver," Father said. "She'd be punished for hiding you and your sister. And me." She'd die protecting us, he thought. But he wouldn't tell them _that_.

"She would be punished for protecting her family?"

"She'd be punished for harbouring apostates, her family or not," he corrected.

"Apostates?" Leandra asked, screwing her nose up in confusion.

"Mages outside the Circle," Mother said, entering the room.

"What's the Circle?"

"Templars lock mages they catch in towers for the rest of their lives. Aunt Bethany used to be in the Circle of Magi."

"You gave her up?" Leandra asked in horror.

"No!" Mother exclaimed. "I'd no more give her up than I'd give you up. The Templars took her and I couldn't stop them."

"Templars are bad people," Carver said gravely.

"Yes, honey, they are," Mother said.

XX

That night, Leora and Anders talked about moving on for the first time in many years.

Sitting up in bed, both unable to sleep with their shared worries pressing on their minds, Anders was the first to break the silence.

"Maybe it's time to move on," he said. In the flickering candlelight, she stared at him for a long moment.

"I don't want to move them," she said. "I want them to have normal childhoods."

"I know, love," he said. "I do too. But until the Templar order is abolished and the Circle destroyed for good, they can't live normal lives."

"When I was a child, I resented magic," she sighed. "We were always moving, always running, from one town, one farm, to the next. Just because my sister was a mage. I never had any friends. I am not putting my children through that."

"The Templars will catch up with us eventually," he said. "Or the Chantry. And my crime will be considered yours."

"I'd hang in your place," she said fiercely. "In a heartbeat I would hang in your place."

"They'd never accept that," he argued. "Besides, I said once that I would die for mage freedom. I still would."

"Our children need someone who can teach them magic. I can't do that. If it comes down to it, you take them and run."

"They need a mother." Knowing neither of them were going to back down, she stared at him for a long moment, grasping for his hand silently.

"Promise me you'll never let the Circle take them," she said.

"Only if you make the same promise," he said.

"I promise, love."

"So do I."

She lay down and stared at the roof. He wrapped an arm around her waist.

"Don't worry about it, love. They'll be fine. I'll be fine," he assured her.

"I do hope you're right. I couldn't live without you."


	4. Seeker

**Seeker**

The children were thirteen when Leora woke during the night, grasping instinctively for her daggers as she always did when suddenly woken. After all these years, she was still a rogue at heart. Anders- who had suffered insomnia recently and was thus still awake- felt her move and frowned at her.

"What's wrong?" he asked softly.

"I don't know," she whispered. "Maybe just a dream. But I could have sworn I heard something."

They lapsed into silence and listened carefully, but only the normal sounds of the night could be heard. Then…

Light, scuffling footsteps were outside their door.

Anders reached for his staff and eased it into position to fire a fireball at the intruder, while his wife prepared to throw the dagger she held.

A timid knock on the door.

"Father?" came Leandra's quavering voice, and both the fugitives relaxed.

"Come in," Anders called, as he and Leora hurriedly stuffed their weapons out of sight. No need to worry the girl by letting her know that her parents still woke up with weapons in their hands. She might think something was wrong.

The door opened and a tear stained face appeared around it.

"Another nightmare?" Anders asked, pulling her into his arms and hugging her tight. Leandra clutched at him for dear life as she nodded.

"It was horrible. There was a demon and…"

"Hush," he whispered, smoothing her hair. "Don't dwell on it. It was just a dream."

Her sniffling subsided as she fell asleep against her father's chest and her parents exchanged worried looks.

XX

"She's not going to Tevinter," Leora said flatly.

"I don't like it either, love, but…"

"You know what Fenris said! Blood magic is everywhere in Tevinter!"

"Fenris? He saw blood magic everywhere. I'm surprised he and Meredith didn't get along better. They were equally paranoid."

"We've faced Magisters, Anders. They all used it. They all summoned demons. I will not let my daughter grow up learning to summon demons."

"But her nightmares… Faenryel needed to go to Tevinter."

"The answer is no, that that's final."

Leora stormed out the house and Anders sighed as he sank down in a chair. He hated the thought of sending Leandra to Tevinter, but could think of no other way to help her.

XX

Leora was mad enough as she left the house that she didn't notice the woman standing outside.

"Champion?" the woman inquired with what sounded like an Orlesian or maybe Antivan accent, cutting through her thoughts.

It took a single glance to know that this woman was not a patient. She wore armour, rare enough in and of itself considering their clients, but worse, she wore Chantry armour.

Leora dropped into a crouch instantly, daggers in hand.

"No need to fear, Champion, I mean you no harm," the woman said, raising her hands slightly to placate her. Leora didn't drop her guard, still glaring at her suspiciously.

"I am Cassandra Pentaghast," she introduced herself. "I am a Seeker of the Chantry, and we need your help."

Her statement was greeted only by hostile silence. She should have expected no more, she thought with a sigh. The Champion had been a fugitive for thirteen years now. In fact, she was lucky not to have been attacked on sight.

"I know you live with Anders, but I am not here for your lover. I promise you I will not touch him."

"How do you know?" she asked warily, speaking for the first time.

"Your friend Varric told us," Cassandra said. "He has told us your story, how you rose to power in Kirkwall."

"Oh, really? And why is that?"

"Because I interrogated him."

The Champion glared at her.

"He is safe," Cassandra hurried to add. "He was released unharmed." She laughed harshly, unbelieving.

"So, Seeker, what is it that you need me to help you with? Not promising anything, mind you," the Champion asked, sarcastically. "That you _interrogated_ my friend for it means it's bad." The way she said interrogated clearly showed she meant torture.

"Open war is threatening to break out. The Templars have rebelled now-"

"Really? So not only have you lost your mages, but your Templars too? Hah!" The Champion laughed. "Hear that, Anders? They lost their oppressors!"

"Poetic, isn't it?" the apostate said from the doorway with a wide grin. He approached his wife and wrapped an arm around her waist. Their argument had been forgotten it seemed, for now at least. Cassandra took a deep breath.

"We need your help to contain war, Champion. The mages respect you. They'll listen to you."

"You want them to stop fighting so you can contain them again," Anders said flatly.

"No. We don't want this world torn apart. That is all."

"Good luck with that," the Champion said. "Somehow, I don't feel like helping you. I wonder why?" With that last sarcastic comment, she turned and headed into the house. But before the door shut behind her, Cassandra heard something that made her jerk her head about in surprise.

"Mother, who is that? Why isn't she coming in? Has Father healed her outside?"

"She doesn't need our help," the Champion replied.

"A child?" Cassandra asked, surprised.

"Yes," the Champion said, turning to face her again. "And between her and her brother, I have enough war as it is." She shut the door in her face.

"Two children?" Cassandra asked the closed door in astonishment.

XX

Anders was already packing, and had set the confused children to collecting their belongings.

"Why, Father?" Leandra asked.

"It's something to do with that lady, isn't it?" Carver asked.

He didn't answer either.

"Mother! Why are we leaving?" Leandra asked as soon as Leora entered.

"Pack your things," she said shortly, and headed into her room.

The twins stared after her.

"Something's going on," Carver said.

"What?" Leandra asked, but he had no answer.

XX

As soon as they were packed, they left. It was still early in the day, and there was plenty of daylight to burn. Their forced pace left all four tired- Leora and Anders hadn't travelled like this in years- but despite the children's complaints and their own sore feet they pressed on.

They had no specific goal- their only goal was 'away!'

"The Free Marches are too dangerous," Leora said. "We have to leave. Perhaps go to Ferelden, Antiva or Orlais."

"Or Tevinter," Anders suggested gingerly.

"Or Tevinter," she sighed heavily. It was a mark of how bad the situation was that she was willing to even consider it.

"Mother, what's going on?" Carver asked when they were resting. She looked at Anders, who nodded.

"I'd hoped to tell you this later, but we have no choice. Your father and I… we told you that the Chantry in Kirkwall was destroyed which prompted the other Circle of Magi to rebel."

Both children nodded.

"Your father and I were the ones who destroyed it."

They gasped in shock.

"You destroyed a whole building?" Leandra asked. Carver had a wider idea of what destroying the Chantry meant.

"You nearly started a war," he said quietly. Leora heaved a heavy sigh and gripped Anders' hand tightly.

"Yes," she admitted. "But not intentionally. The Circle is a terrible injustice, and the Templars were oppressing them, turning mages Tranquil for nothing. We were defending the rights of mages, and other Circles followed."

She fell silent, overcome with emotion. Anders gripped her hand tightly for comfort and the children stared at their parents, unsure what to think.

"We had no choice but to fight," he said. "There was no compromise."

"Why not?" Carver asked.

"The Knight-Commander… she was insane. We offered compromise but she refused to hear us. We wanted to end it peacefully. I'm not saying that we are completely innocent- far from it-" Mother's eyes were haunted as she spoke- "I'm just saying that we did what we had to. Do I regret what I did? Yes. But it is done, and there is no point aggravating old wounds."

Leandra was staring at Mother and Father as if she'd never seen them before, but Carver understood.

"If you offered to deal and she refused, then you aren't entirely at fault," he said slowly.

"You have an old soul, Carver," Mother said. "I only wish it brings you peace rather than heartbreak."

XX

Leandra walked alone after the story was told, and didn't spend much time with Mother or Father. Her magic lessons were the only real interactions she had with Father now, and she was silent at mealtimes.

Carver had new respect for his parents. He admired the strength of their convictions, and wished he had a cause he was passionate enough about to sacrifice his whole life for it. When he told Father this, Father just stared at the ground.

"No, you don't," he said. "When something swallows you so completely you lose sight of all else…" he gazed at Mother. "No path is darker than when your eyes are shut."

He had thought Flemeth was talking to Merrill at the time. He now saw he'd been wrong.


	5. Calling

**Calling**

Leandra was never sure what to make of Mother and Father after she'd been told their story on the road three years ago. She'd understood why they'd had to run, certainly, but not why they'd done it in the first place. She asked once why they didn't turn themselves in to pay for their crimes.

"Because as much as I regret the consequences of what happened, I don't regret what I did," Father told her. "It needed to be done."

"People died!" she cried, horrified. Father's shoulders had sagged.

"I know," he sighed.

She also knew that Mother and Father would do anything to protect her and Carver, even if it meant killing again, and she knew that if anyone was killed because of her, she would feel terribly guilty.

In the last three years, she and Carver had grown apart. They had passed through several towns, and in each one she had asked if they could settle, and he had insisted they move on. They started quarrelling over everything, from the love interests of the other to the chores they shared.

They had settled once, but the Seeker had found them again. From then on, they kept moving.

"Why don't you want to help prevent this war?" Carver had asked. Leandra had listened eagerly in.

"I do," Mother'd sighed, helplessly. "But that would mean being away from you. And I'm not a good enough person to give you up."

"You are a good person," Father had said, coming up behind her. "A better person than me. Had I being a better person, I'd have left you. I wouldn't have dragged you into this."

"It was too late, Anders. I'd have been dragged into it anyway- being the Champion of Kirkwall tends to do that."

"I suppose so," he replied.

Leandra's curiosity was left unsated.

XX

When the Seeker next caught up with them, Leora was packed and ready.

"Tell me, Seeker," she began, "Why are we so selfish that we cannot let go of what is good for us to do what is good for others?"

"We feel we deserve happiness more than others," Cassandra replied. There was a long silence, then she hefted her pack on her back.

"I'm ready."

"Then let us leave."

Carver and Father watched her go with the Seeker until they could no longer be seen. Leandra refused to watch.

XX

She was away for two years. When she returned the tensions between mages and Templars had been soothed- at least for now.

Father ran to her and held her so tightly Leandra was surprised he didn't break her in half. She kissed him fiercely, clutching at him, until she calmed down enough to greet her children.

She held her arms out and both ran to her, throwing their arms around her as if they were eight not eighteen.

"Look how big you are," she whispered. "How much you've grown. Oh how I've missed you."

"I missed you too, Mother," Carver said.

"So did I," Leandra admitted. Mother hugged them even tighter.

The Seeker watched and smiled.

XX

Now the crisis was over, they finally settled in Ferelden, and Carver met a lovely boy whom Mother and Father approved of. They had taken the news that their son liked boys without batting an eyelid- Leandra was less approving and did not associate with his lover, Shawn.

Shawn was a wild, fun loving boy, a far cry from Carver's quiet, serious contemplation. Shawn had brought Carver out of his shell, and her twin had become much more playful and happy lately.

Still, Leandra did not approve.

"Honestly, you'd think my sister would be happy I found someone," he exclaimed one day, throwing his hands up in surrender. "Haven't you always said that I ought to find someone and get myself laid?"

"I meant a woman," his sister snapped.

"And what's wrong with Shawn?"

"Nothing, dear. Nothing at all," Mother said, coming up behind him. "He's a lovely boy and I'm happy for you."

"Thank you, Mother! It seems you're the only one who is around here." Carver glared at his sister.

Anders pulled his son aside and told him about a man called Karl he had once loved.

"What happened to him?" Carver asked.

"Our paths diverged," Father replied evasively. "And I found your mother."

"Does that mean you don't like men now?" Leandra asked insolently. "Maybe you'll be a good example to my brother."

"It means that I found a woman who is as good as any man," Father said, voice hard.

"That's no way to speak to your father," Mother snapped.

"Gee, fine," the girl muttered, storming out.

XX

Even Leandra couldn't fail to notice that Father seemed agitated lately, distracted. During the years Mother was away she'd seen it in him, but put it down to him missing Mother. She often saw him staring at the floor and gripping his hand about his staff restlessly.

Mother seemed worried. Once she happened to hear the pair talking.

"It's the Calling, isn't it?" Mother asked anxiously, pacing back and forth across the floor in front of the fireplace, wringing her hands together.

"I have to go," he said, half rising before he sat back down. "I can't stay. I want to but… it calls to me… I have to go…"

"Then I'm coming with you," Mother said firmly. "Till death do us part, remember?"

"The children…"

"They're old enough to take care of themselves. You're not going down there without me."

He smiled weakly and gripped her hand.

"Thank you," he whispered.

Leandra left the house to find Carver.

XX

"Carver, I heard Mother and Father talking," she said, running into her brother. He was humming happily as he strolled towards the house, cheeks flushed. She felt disgust fill her- she knew what he'd been doing- but this was too important to berate him now.

"Mother mentioned the Calling. Said she wouldn't let Father leave without her, and that we're old enough to take care of ourselves."

Her twin brother frowned.

"What? They're leaving?"

"Sounded like it," Leandra replied.

Together, the twins ran back to the house.

XX

"Kids," Mother began as Father stared at the floor, fingers twitching towards his staff, "We need to tell you something."

It was then that Carver realised she was in full armour. It was the first time he'd seen her in full armour since she'd returned with the Seeker.

"What's going on, Mother?" he asked, staring at the daggers on her back and helm sitting on the table.

"Your father's Calling has come," she said. "We're going to the Deep Roads. And we won't be coming back."

The previous year Father had told them all about the Grey Wardens, and how he thought he would soon face his time. They both knew exactly what Mother meant.

"Does this mean…" Leandra's lip shook. "You're going to die?" She wasn't certain if she liked her parents. But she loved them and the possibility of losing them terrified her.

"Yes," Father said, looking up for the first time, seeking out the familiar comfort of his children's faces. They had Leora's nose and lips. They had his eyes. Carver had his mother's build, but his height. Leandra was short like her mother, but of his build. The pointed chins were his. The steely determination in Carver's eyes was his, tempered with Leora's kindness and gentleness. The defiant, reckless sparkle in Leandra's eyes was just like her mother's when she had been a younger woman.

Leora was older now, and time had changed her just as it had changed him. She had crow's feet and couldn't throw a dagger as hard or straight as she once could. She tired more easily and didn't say the spirited comebacks that had once spewed from her mouth like lava anymore. She had no wish to fight now. She just wanted to be a good wife and mother.

Which by no means meant that she was slacking off. Most mornings still found her training on the practise dummy she'd erected in the backyard, and she was still the most spectacular sight he'd ever seen. He found her more beautiful every day, as tired as she was, as old as she was.

He'd fallen in love with a young woman of twenty one. Now, at forty six, she was more than his lover as they had been then. She was his wife.

"You kids can take care of yourselves," she was saying. "I know you can do it. Father has taught you well. Don't doubt your abilities. The surest way to lose a fight is to believe you can't win it."

It was the motto she'd lived her live by. She'd nearly died during the duel with the Arishok so many years ago, despite her skill, because she'd doubted herself. It also extended to other areas of life. When Carver had first told her he liked Shawn but didn't know how to tell him, she had told him that if he believed he could never tell him, he never would.

"Those who don't try never succeed, son," she'd said.

The next week he'd come home with a boyfriend.

"Follow your dreams. Remember- those who don't try never succeed."

Leandra ran forward and hugged her mother fiercely.

"Why do you have to go too?" she asked. "You're no Warden."

"Your father needs me. And it's time to let go of you. I once told you I wasn't a good enough woman to do that." Mother paused. "But you convinced me to do what was right, Leandra, that I had a situation to fix. You're a better woman that I ever will be."

Tears filled Leandra's eyes.

"And you, Carver. You're such a good boy. So kind and compassionate. You're just like your father. He fights for what he believes in, no matter the cost, too." She glanced at Father, who smiled slightly. "I know you'll understand that we have to leave, like you'd go with Shawn if he had to leave. I love you, Carver. I love you, Leandra. More than the whole world."

"Papa," Leandra whispered.

"Oh, darling," Father said, hugging her tightly. "I still remember you coming to me at night after you'd had a nightmare when you were eight. So scared but so brave. You two are the best thing that ever happened to me. I didn't even think it possible I could sire children. I'd not sacrifice either of you for anything."

"Stay strong, Carver. There will come a day when you will have to choose between what is right and what is easy. We all have to choose that one day. Just remember, it's only when you're falling, you learn if you can fly."

Mother's mouth twisted into a smile as she picked two things up off the table.

"This was my mother's," she said, handing a tarnished silver locket to Leandra. The girl opened it. Inside were two pictures.

One was of five people. She recognised Aunt Bethany- her aunt's face had changed little since the picture was painted- but it was the dark haired girl with the defiant sparkle in her eyes in the front row, older than Aunt Bethany, but not by much, who caught her attention.

It was Mother.

"I was your age then," Mother said. "Bethany and Carver were fifteen." She pointed out the boy beside Bethany, a strong jawed, steely eyed boy who strongly resembled Mother. "Father died not long after this was painted. Mother…" Mother hesitated on the picture of the woman holding young Leora in her arms. "Mother was the best mother I could have had. I wish she'd survived to see you."

The other was of the four of them. She remembered the day it had been painted. She'd been eight and impatient to play with her friends, but Mother had insisted she stay still. Carver had held her hand and spoke into her ear to calm her. Leandra focused on her mother's face. She looked so young, so vibrant and happy, as did Father.

"She'd have been so proud of you, Leandra. You're everything she would have wanted in a grandchild. And Carver… this is my father's staff." She handed him a staff, an old, delicate thing. "It served him well. I hope it serves you better."

She put her helmet on as the children examined their gifts.

"And now we must go."

The couple hugged and kissed their children one last time before they left the house hand in hand. The twins stared after them, unwilling to tear their gazes away the last time they would ever see their parents.

"Goodbye," Carver whispered, gripping Leandra's hand tight.

"It's just you and me now, sister."


End file.
